Opinion
Column

From sea to shining sea

Today, upwards of 135 cyclists will dip their tires in the Atlantic Ocean at Halifax, Nova Scotia, having dipped them nine weeks ago in the Pacific at Vancouver, June 26. It is their contribution to Canada’s 150th birthday.

As recorded in the June 12th issue of The Christian Courier, most are members of the Christian Reformed Church (CRC) who decided it was a golden opportunity to get their denomination outside of the walls of their churches.

As reported by the publication’s feature editor, Monica deRegt (P. 2), it was also an adventure of a life time. Some of the riders are in their 60s and think it will be the last time they will ever have this kind of opportunity. One couple even rode a tandem bicycle.

This took me back to Canada’s Centennial in 1967 when cousins from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, did the same to Ottawa. They were young and idealistic and did it not just because Canada was 100 years old but because they knew they could.

Here in Kenora we’ve seen these people pass through. Walkers, runners, cyclists, horse riders, hitch-hikers, paddlers; you name it, we’ve seen it. Not just because of the adventure, but so many are doing it to raise money for a cause or a fund, receiving so much for every mile knocked off.

Several years ago cyclists from the Canadian Bible Society went through. Spear-headed by one of my predecessors at Petawawa Presbyterian Church, they did it as a golden opportunity to get out into God’s great outdoors. And like the CRC people, some of them were veterans, having done it before.

For others it was their first time, and if they didn’t do it all, preferring only a segment, each went home happy, having experienced a unique form of locomotion during the long days of summer when the glory of the sun is exalted.

But most of us, when we’re not flying, take our cars, or the train or bus. This latter form I took as my parents’ gift during Centennial.

Instead of going to Expo in Montreal, I discovered western Canada, bunking in with relatives in Regina, Moose Jaw, Calgary and Vancouver. Where I didn’t have family, such as Winnipeg and Victoria, I took a room in a modest hotel. It was great.

I confess I have no memories of Kenora. We must have gone through during the night when I was sleeping. But Wawa, the first night stop coming out of Orillia and home of the great goose, I was awake and marvelled at the night life in this out of the way place.

The Winnipeg bus depot was brand new whereas the one in Calgary was an old one buried in the depths of the city. Then, as now, the bus company is Greyhound.

I hope to again use it to see my brother in Vancouver next month.

“By bus,” he asked.

“Are you sure? It’s been 50 years. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Why not?” I replied.

“I work fast food. What could be easier sitting on my rear end as opposed to running around hurling doughnuts.